


Warmth

by BaeLee



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Bad Spanish, Boys Kissing, Chorus (Red vs. Blue), Español | Spanish, Everyone Is Gay, Fix-It, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Character, Kissing, Locpez, Lopez speaks spanish, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post Season 13, Red Team Locus | Samuel Ortez, Self-Indulgent, literally I'm so sorry for any fluent speakers of spanish I don't mean to disrespect you, rvb, rvb13, the rest is in english, what season 15 should have been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaeLee/pseuds/BaeLee
Summary: If there’s anything the Blood Gulch Chronicles have taught me, it’s that Lopez knows how to charm a person.
Relationships: Locus | Samuel Ortez & Red Team, Lopez & Locus | Samuel Ortez, Lopez/Locus | Samuel Ortez
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> I want to apologize in advanced for anyone reading this who speaks Spanish fluently. I tried my best. Also, for anyone who doesn't know Spanish at all, I did my best to make the dialogue so you could assume what Lopez was saying based off of Locus's responses, so don't fear the Spanish.
> 
> Also, if the formatting is wonky, I am also sorry for that. I don't know how to fix it.

Incorporating himself into Red team was a lot easier than Locus expected. The Reds and Blues were currently living on Chorus, helping them rebuild and recover from years of civil war, and Locus felt obligated to lend aid in any way he could. It was the least he could do after contributing to most of the death and destruction. 

The Reds had quickly claimed him as one of their own, and as Agent Washington was quick to inform him, there was little he could do to argue. He was even given his own room in the “base” Kimball had set aside for them, marked with an embroidered name plate.

“Where did Donut even find the stuff to make this?” He heard Grif mutter upon finding the ornamentation of his own door. 

Locus knew little of the simulation troopers other than what was provided by Hargreeves, and that only ever pertained to the mission. It was a strange experience knowing that the soldier with a killer throwing arm and an impossibly thick skull also loved to cross-stitch. He had always assumed that they were simple men who got lucky on the battlefield, but the more time he spent around them, the more complexities became apparent. 

For instance, the Sargent acted as if he hated Grif, but Locus had found him on more than one occasion stocking up on the horribly unhealthy foods only Grif could possibly enjoy. Donut had been spending more time with the Blues, and the other Reds took bets on why that was. Locus put money on him being annoyed with his current team. 

The weirdest thing that Locus noticed was the team’s relationship with Lopez. He knew he was a robot, but the AI was so intelligent that Locus was surprised he hadn’t been based off of a human the way Epsilon had been. For some reason, nobody ever seemed to pay him any attention. 

Lopez only seemed to speak in Spanish, but he clearly understood English. It pained Locus to see how isolated he was from the rest of his team. He rarely spoke directly to anyone, and even when he did, he was either insulted, dismissed, or simply ignored. 

Maybe that was why Locus decided to tag along with him one day.

While the rest of the Reds and Blues worked with Kimball on organizing the people, Lopez tended to go on repair missions, fixing up cars or buildings that had been damaged in any of the various battles. Locus was definitely not an expert handyman, but he figured he was better suited for handling things that didn’t involve coming face to face with the people he had tried to kill. 

Everyone was loading into warthogs to go about their daily routines, but instead of getting into his seat alongside Grif and Simmons, he climbed in alongside Lopez.

“¿Por qué estás aquí?” he asked, not bothering to look at him.

“Just drive,”

“Como quieras,”

Together they drove around, stopping wherever it looked like someone needed help. Lopez worked on most of the projects by himself, with Locus only really able to offer an extra set of hands. He mainly passed tools or held things in place while Lopez actually fixed them. Locus, being uncomfortable and slightly regretting his choice, didn’t engage in conversation. That is, until Lopez spoke first.

“¿Por qué viniste conmigo hoy?” he asked.

Locus looked up in confusion. He was leaning against a wall, looking out the window of the garage they were currently in. Lopez was wrenching something in the engine of a warthog that had seen better days. At first, Locus thought he had misheard.

“What?”

Lopez made a grunt of annoyance, switching out his wrench for a pair of pliers. “¿Por qué no veniste con los otros idiotas?

Locus stayed silent for a moment, pondering on why he had decided to change up his routine today. 

“You’re the only one who has to work alone.” He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. He wondered why he cared about his appearance so much right now. “And I doubt anyone would notice I’m not there. I don’t exactly contribute much.”

Lopez kept working on the warthog. Locus’s heart was pounding in his chest. Why did Lopez have to question him? He just wanted to keep the mechanic company, not try to befriend him or anything. But for some reason, the lack of an immediate response was killing him.

Eventually Lopez spoke, though much quieter this time. “¿Sospechaste que quiero ser solo?”

Locus considered for a moment. “No, I guess I didn’t. But how would I know? You never speak to anybody,”

“¿Cuál es el punto? Nadie podría entenderme.”

“I can understand you. You should speak up more.”

Lopez gave a halfhearted chuckle. “¿Y decir? No es como quiero hablar con ellos.” For a beat, the only sound to be heard was scraping metal. “¿Por qué te preocupas? No me conoces.”

Before he could process his response, Locus spoke. “Apparently neither do your friends.”

“No son mis amigos.” Lopez said immediately.

“Then why do you stick around?” Something about this lonesome robot was curious to Locus, and, for some reason, he was compelled to find out more about him. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but notice similarities between the two of them.

Lopez shrugged as much as he could when bent over and half inside an engine. “Supongo no tener en ningún otro sitio para ir. Nada mejor para hacer. ¿No es la razón por la que estás aquí?”

“I guess so,” Locus said quietly.

The two of them finished up their day, repairing various cars and equipment and making as much conversation as two bricks in a wall. They rode back to red base with only the sound of the warthog’s engine to fill the space between them. 

Lopez parked in his usual spot, but before Locus could get out, he spoke.

“Si quieres venir conmigo otra vez mañana, no odio la ayuda extra.”

~~~~~~~~

Locus joined Lopez into the city the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. On the fourth day of this arrangement, Lopez showed Locus how to replace the battery in a warthog. On the sixth day, Locus apologized for throwing him into storage, though he apparently didn’t mind too much. On the tenth day, they started talking about their love lives. 

“She was… a tank.” Locus almost didn’t believe what he was hearing. If someone had told him he would be listening to this story a year ago, he wouldn’t have believed it at all. 

“Una tanque muy hermosa.” Lopez sounded almost wistful. It was possibly the most emotion he had heard from the robot, and while it was unusual, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 

“Based on the company you keep, I can’t exactly judge.”

“¿Y tú? ¿Hay alguien que amabas?”

Locus cast his eyes down. He should’ve expected the question, but he had hoped to avoid it. Just thinking about it still made his stomach turn.    
“There was someone I cared for once.”

“¿Y?” Lopez said, sounding surprised.

“And nothing. Nothing ever came of it, so it doesn’t matter.”

Lopez packed his tools into a toolbox then started to walk away. Locus thought the silence would kill him. 

Just as Locus pushed himself to follow his companion, Lopez stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Qué lástima. Un hombre hermoso como ti mismo debe tener una lista largo de exes.”

Locus paused. This couldn’t be real, there was no way. Since when did Lopez have a sense of humor? At least, Locus hoped he was joking. He doubted he’d survive if he wasn’t. 

“What?”

“He visto a ti bajo su yelmo. Ahora, vamos.”

~~~~~~~~

“How the hell did you find all fifteen seasons of criminal minds on dvd?” Simmons asked. “We’re on a planet in the middle of nowhere!”

“Forget that, I want to know how you managed to get a dvd player  _ and  _ a TV,” Grif said. They were sitting next to each other on one of three couches in Red base’s living room. 

Sarge sat down on the couch next to Donut. “Quite frankly, I don’t  _ want  _ to know.”

Donut coyly looked to the side while giving a dismissive gesture. “Come on, guys! You know I don’t kiss and tell!”

Grif sighed. “I should’ve expected that,” he mumbled.

Locus was sitting on the third couch by himself, which he wouldn’t complain too much about. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the casual intimacy that the Reds showed each other. At least, not yet. 

Among the things Locus had learned about the Reds and Blues since technically joining their ranks was the insistence of Red team’s weekly movie nights. Also included in that list was that “movie night” didn’t necessarily mean watching movies. So far, Locus had participated in a grilled cheese making contest, helped kidnap Caboose from Blue base, and watched as Donut failed to teach the other Reds an apparently trendy dance move. Luckily, tonight’s movie night fell more towards the traditional side of things. 

He couldn’t help but notice that Lopez wasn’t present, though he rarely ever showed up. He was probably doing something more productive, and Locus wondered why he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. His elbow was resting on the arm of the couch, and he propped his head on his hand. However, he straightened his posture when someone entered the room.

Locus had never seen him before. He had tan skin and brown hair, and he was wearing a long sleeved shirt and cargo pants. His face was expressionless as he walked over to the empty spot next to Locus. 

“Hola,” Lopez said quietly. Locus had to force himself to stop staring. It was the first time he had seen the man out of armor. In fact, he didn’t even think it was possible for him to take it off. Being a soldier for so long had made him think of helmets as part of a person. He had been on entire campaigns with soldiers and had not once seen what they actually looked like. For Locus to suddenly see Lopez dressed in civilian clothes, looking pretty damn close to being human, it blew his mind. For all he knew, the armor was all he was.

In this case, he didn’t mind being proven wrong.

“What season should we watch?” Donut asked, rifling through the stack of dvds.

“Easy, season four. It’s the best one,”

“No way! We have to start at the beginning. Put in season one,”

“Which one has the most violence?”

“It’s a show about serial killers,”

“Why don’t we take a vote?”

They ended up watching season six after Donut scattered the dvds on the floor and Sarge picked the one that felt the “most bloodthirsty” with his eyes closed. Locus had never seen the show, as he found most forms of entertainment pointless, so he didn’t understand a lot of the context. But if he was being honest, watching the show was not his priority. 

After spending so much time with Lopez, he began to get to know him better. He felt closer to him than any of the other Reds and Blues, but he still felt like something was missing between them. He craved something else that he was too afraid to name, too afraid to call attention to less it consume him. 

The night seemed to last forever and be over too soon all at once. Every time Lopez so much as shifted in his seat, Locus felt a burning sensation creep up on his cheeks. 

He only hoped that nobody noticed.

Despite sitting next to each other the entire time, the two men didn’t speak at all. Locus found it strange that he had seen more of Lopez tonight than he had in all of his time on Chorus, yet  _ he _ was the one feeling exposed. 

When everyone got tired of sitting around and watching the show, they all went their separate ways for the night. Donut left eagerly for his room, claiming he needed his “beauty rest”. Sarge left right after, saying something insinuating that they were all inferior to him. Grif tailed behind Simmons, though it was more like Simmons was dragging Grif behind him in an effort to keep him from falling asleep on the couch.

Lopez stood up but didn’t make to leave. Instead, he held out his hand to Locus. With slight hesitation, Locus accepted the offering. However, even once he was standing, Lopez’s hand lingered. With a light touch, it wandered upwards and gave Locus’s forearm a soft squeeze. 

“Buenas noches,” Lopez said, letting his hand fall to his side. Locus didn’t have time to process before Lopez walked away. He was grateful there was nobody around to witness his brain melting.

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, something bugged Locus, so he asked the other Reds about it.

Grif was busy trying to look busy, so Locus approached him first. “Has Lopez always had a human body?”

Grif looked at him with concern. “He’s a robot,”

“Has he always had a body that  _ looked _ human?”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t take his armor off a lot,” He said. “It’s not like he sleeps or bathes, so what’s the point.”

Locus grunted in acknowledgement.

“Damn, I wish I had a robot body. Not bathing sounds like a dream.”

Locus walked away, deciding to ask the others if they knew Lopez’s reasoning. The answers he received were as helpful as he should have expected.

“I think he’s just shy,”

“Tactical advantage!”

“Look, just because I’m a cyborg doesn’t mean I understand everything Lopez does.”

Going to the source would be the best option, it seemed.

Later in the day, when the two men continued their routine of doing menial repairs, Locus commented on what was bothering him. Though he thought tact would be useful in this instance, he did feel like a bit of a coward for not asking outright.

“Back in your armor, I see,” Locus said, doing his best to sound nonchalant. He could tell it wasn’t convincing.

“Sí, estoy,” Lopez said. He was squating on the ground next to a generator, with both hands occupied inside.

Locus nodded. “That’s a smart move,”

Lopez tilted his head towards Locus. “¿Sí? ¿Cómo?”

“We believe we’re done fighting for now, but there is always the possibility of a threat we didn’t expect.” He felt like an idiot. It was true, but obviously, that wasn’t what he really cared about. He just hoped Lopez didn’t pick up on anything. Locus contemplated if there was anything for the other man to pick up on.

“Eso es una manera para considerarlo,” Lopez said. Locus grunted in response.

It was quiet for a while, the two working alongside each other, exchanging words only when they needed something. Normally, the silence was comfortable, so Locus never minded. However, in this instance, it felt tense. Or, at least to Locus it did. He figured that was due to his paranoia. He shouldn’t have let it slip out so much. The last thing he needed was for Lopez, the only person he was mildly comfortable around, to think he was crazy.

“Hay una manera otra para lo considera”

Locus snapped his head towards Lopez. “What?" He’d been so distracted by his own thoughts that he forgot where their conversation had left off.

“Hay una manera otra por considera a yo en mi armadura de nuevo,”

“There is?”

Lopez stopped working on the generator and looked at Locus.

“What?” Locus asked.

Lopez shook his head. “Verdaderamente, no tu espero ser igual estúpido lo quė el resto de ellos,”

Locus was shocked enough that he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if Lopez had just insulted him or not. Should he be offended? He didn’t sound like he was trying to be rude, but Locus also didn’t understand how normal conversations were supposed to work.

His train of thought and mild panicking were interrupted by Lopez standing up and taking off his helmet. 

“Prefiero quedarme en mi armadura la mayoría de las veces, pero puedo quitarme cuando quiero. No lo hago frecuentemente porque no tengo una razón. Esa noche, tengo una razón.” Lopez put his helmet back on and began working again. After a few moments during which Locus hardly breathed, Lopez said quietly, “Dame el destornillador.”

Locus handed him the screwdriver, hoping that Lopez wouldn’t notice how much his hands were shaking. He hadn’t shaken this badly since the first time he killed someone. They continued their day of work, and in what little words were exchanged, the topic of armor didn’t come up again. However, the more Locus thought about what Lopez said, the more things started to click.

By the time the sun had gone down and all of the Reds were in the base and asleep, Locus had decided that enough was enough. He wanted to know what Lopez’s deal was. He headed towards the storage shed, hoping to find the other man inside. 

As he approached, he saw that the light was on and heard the sound of movement coming from inside. Locus peered in to find Lopez putting various tools and other materials away. 

Lopez noticed him standing in the doorway. “¿Qué está haciendo aquí?” It sounded like a genuine question, like he really was curious. He couldn’t imagine Lopez taking this sort of interest in anyone else. Something stirred in Locus’s chest at that thought.

“You said you had a reason for not wearing armor during movie night.” Locus thought that if he jumped right in from the get go, there would be no way for him to chicken out.

“Sí, digo eso,”

“Mind telling me what that reason was?” Locus regretted how intimidating he sounded.

Lopez looked at Locus directly. He was wearing a helmet, and Locus was out of armor, and he had never felt so vulnerable before.

Locus held his breath.

“Tú de verdad eres un idiota,”

That caught Locus off guard. Of all the things he expected, it wasn’t this. 

“How am  _ I  _ the idio-.” In the middle of Locus speaking, Lopez had discarded his helmet and pulled him in for a kiss. He was surprised, to say the least, but suddenly it made sense. He thought of the last time he had been kissed, but he didn’t remember it being so terrifying. It felt like lifetimes ago. But it was hard to think too long on much else when there was a pretty man currently occupying his attention.

Lopez pulled away, and Locus forced himself to open his eyes and face his current situation. He had just been kissed by a robot, and it hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. In fact, it had been extremely pleasant. Not only that, but his heart was racing in his chest, and there was no doubt in Locus’s mind that his face was flushed.

Lopez cradled Locus’s face in his gloved hands. It wouldn’t be until later that night that Locus realized that it hadn’t scared him. “¿Está la respuesta que querías?”

Locus stumbled over his words, his brain still short circuiting. “Uh, I don’t know,” Which was the truth. Locus had no idea what he had wanted for an answer.

“¿Está la respuesta que esperabas?”

“Not in the slightest,”

Lopez smirked. “Y que es la razón eres una idiota.” Locus gave him a confused look. “Sentía que era increíblemente obvio, pero aparentemente no era lo suficientemente obvio para localizar tu cráneo denso.” Lopez let out a soft laugh.

Locus paused for a moment to ponder the entire situation, back to when the two had first met. So much was rolling through his mind, but one thought stood out among the rest. 

“Why?”

“¿Que por qué?”

“Why do you like me? Or even tolerate me?”

Lopez shrugged. “Yo no sé. Quiero decir, eres la única persona única que conocí alguna vez que prueba conocerme,” He said. “Aun si es una tentativa patética a veces,”

“Oh,”

“Y pienso que es adorable cuánto esfuerzo le pongas a mejorarse,”

As nice as his words were, there was something still nagging at Locus in the back of his mind. “It doesn’t bother you? The things I’ve done?”

Lopez raised his eyebrows. “Realmente, no me importa. Y, honestamente, había un tiempo cuando hice un esfuerzo sincero para matar a los Rojos y Azules. Así que, no soy la persona mayor inocente tampoco.”

Locus desperately fished around for some way to respond, but came up with nothing.

“Además, no me duele que tiene una cara muy bonita,”

“Shut up,” Locus said, then immediately felt bad for saying. “I mean, it’s not, you don’t have to…”

“¿Qué, halagarte a ti?”

Locus grunted.

“Pero es la verdad,”

“Okay,” He didn’t see the point in arguing. Right now, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Lopez stared at Locus’s face for a moment. “¿Puedo besarte otra vez?” Somehow, the straightforward was he asked lit up Locus’s insides. For god’s sake, he felt like a teenager.

“Yes,” He said, all too eagerly. 

Lopez leaned in for a second time that evening, but now Locus was prepared for it. Lopez’s hands framed Locus’s face so gently it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt a bit weird not doing anything with his hands, so he lightly grabbed Lopez’s forearms.

When they pulled apart, Lopez smiled. It was the first time he had seen him so happy. It did something to Locus that he was the one responsible for that smile.

“¿Hasta mañana?” Lopez asked, lightly running his thumbs along Locus’s cheekbones.

He nodded, then reluctantly stepped away from the other man to start heading towards the base. Before he got too far, however, he turned around and blurted out “You should go around without armor more often,”

“¿Por qué?” Lopez was still smiling.

“Because you also have a very nice face,”

Before he could see the other man’s reaction, he turned around and left. 

Locus doubted he was going to get much sleep tonight, and for once, he didn’t mind so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
